Shifting Sheets
by DiscombobulatedCanadian
Summary: Messing with Alfred's pets is a really bad idea so Matthew had learned. A story about Chibi Canada and Chibi America, real names used. All chapters included.


_**If you have not read The Apple's Curse (another one of my Hetalia fanfics) then this will probably just be another one-shot for you. If you've read The Apple's Curse then this will explain the incident in chapter 3. Thanksies for reading this! X3**_

_**PS. Baby voices are annoying to write. All the R's and L's to W's made me want to punch a teddy bear. **_

**-o-oOo-o-**

**Shifting Sheets **

**Chibi Matthew (Baby Canada), Chibi Alfred (Baby America) & Arthur (England) **

**-o-oOo-o- CHAPTER 1 -o-oOo-o-**

Alfred scuttled around in Arthur's office. No, he was not supposed to be in there, but this was important. He had to find something to get Matthew back. There was no way he was letting him get away with setting his bison free. Whether it was really an accident or not he couldn't care less. If anything, Matthew was lucky he wasn't sticking to his original plan of setting that stupid polar bear on fire.

He pulled open one of the desk drawers and shuffled through the papers, he took no time to neatly put them back in their original state, he just needed that key. And it wasn't there. On to the next! He repositioned himself at another one, gripped the handle and yanked hard. Not because it was locked, because he was frustrated.

The drawer whacked him right in the forehead and he fell back on his butt. Grumbling bitterly as he got on his knees, Alfred started sorting through the contents on the ground. There was less paper in this one. His leg bumped something and it jingled. Alfred lowered his gaze to the chain of keys that lay right beneath him.

Grinning, with a shadow of malice growing around him, he took the keys up; threw everything back into the drawer, shoved the drawer back into the slot it fell from and sprinted out of the room, closing the door behind him.

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

It really was an accident; he didn't mean to let the bison go. Matthew just wanted it to play with Kumajiro but when he unlocked the gate the crazed animal rushed at him. It felt like they ran for a whole kilometre before the bison made a U-turn and stampeded into the trees. But Alfred wouldn't believe it. Matthew would never do something like that on purpose, why was Alfred being so mean?

He hugged Kumajiro closer and whimpered into his fur. Alfred could be very scary when he was even mildly upset. He was not mildly upset, he was extremely upset. Matthew could see the steam drifting out of Alfred's ears when he went to play with his bison and only found his very shaken up brother and an empty pen.

Though Alfred didn't swear his vengeance, Matthew knew he was devising a plan. That was what he did. If you upset him, he would not just take it. He would fight back.

There was no way Alfred would brush it aside, Matthew was doomed.

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

It took a while before Alfred could get in the attic. About nineteen keys later the door _clicked _open. With his net and jar in hand, he scampered into the dark and dusty room and started on his search. Manoeuvring around the old artefacts and aging clutter was the easy part, the not-so-easy part was squeezing into those horrid corners and catching the little rascals. They were quicker than he'd been anticipating and by the end of his mission he only had about twelve in his jar. It wasn't nearly enough. He needed, at least, 988 more or his plan would never work out.

Alfred moved down to the basement with a freshly lit candle, his jar of spiders and the net. There was bound to be a ton of them down there, it was, after all, a basement. Dark creepy, crawling with bugs and with bugs came eight-legged, blood-sucking arachnids.

Alfred spent more than just a few minutes exploring. And to his surprise he actually caught 1000 spiders, and they fit in the jar, weighed it down, but fit nonetheless. Though some of the females seemed to be snaking on the males, everything was all good. Matthew would still freak out. All Alfred needed was the satisfaction of seeing his younger brother beg for mercy – which he would not give – and his life would be complete.

Alfred crept up the stairs and diligently ran to his Matthew's room. He peeked his head in and (thank goodness) it was empty. The boy chuckled.

"_Phase one_: compwete."

**-o-oOo-o- CHAPTER 2 -o-oOo-o-**

Matthew gave the kitchen a once-over before shuffling in. Things had gotten too quiet since Matthew last saw Alfred. Which happened to be only moments ago in the very same kitchen he was sneaking into now. He cursed his stomach for getting hungry. If he ran into Alfred again … only goodness knew what would happen.

Arthur looked up from his paper and quirked a fuzzy brow at the toddler that was trying – and failing – to come into the kitchen unnoticed. The boy wasn't as invisible as he would have liked but Arthur thought he should let him have his fun and brought the paper back to his face.

The sun was setting and _Papa_ Arthur already had the oil lamps burning. So maybe things would not be so bad after all. Alfred wouldn't go to such lengths as planning a nightly sneak attack, he hoped. 'Cause Alfred had a conscious, he hoped. And Alfred didn't hate Matthew, he hoped.

Matthew opened the cupboard door and spotted the porcelain cookie jar instantly. He was a bit hesitant and his stomach growled in protest. His tiny body was in dire need of nourishment, even if it meant coming out of hiding for a couple of minutes to refuel. He did spend the past couple of hours crouched behind _Papa _Arthur's wardrobe so he deserved a break! And if Alfred approached him then … then he would puff out his chest, just like the frogs at the pond, and yell at him to go away.

The blonde was balancing on the tips of his toes, stretching desperately. He outstretched his fingers and tried to jump but Kumajiro was too heavy, so he set him down and jumped again. This time, though, he actually touched it – well not so much touched as his fingers brushed it. And the jar wobbled, teetering dangerously close to the edge.

"Oh, no!" he squeaked and slapped it back.

From his vantage point, Matthew saw the jar continue to waddle. Back and forth, back and forth until it fell over and slammed onto the wooden shelf … and broke.

"What in the name of the occult was that?" _Papa _Arthur yelped.

Matthew slowly turned to face him and his bottom lip trembled.

"Th- the cookie jaw. I'm sowwy, _Papa _Artur!" He cried.

Arthur sighed. "It's fine … uh … eh …, young … child. Just go and busy yourself someplace else."

That would be a great idea – if he weren't so hungry! Matthew's eyes started to water.

"_P- Papa _Awtur? I- I'm hungwy, dough. And – and I wan'ed a cookie bud da jaw felled."

"Oh, I see." He clicked his tongue and sighed again. "There is bread. Do you want bread?"

"Yes pwease."

Matthew hefted Kumajiro into his arms and followed _Papa _Arthur around the kitchen. He watched greedily as the older man broke the small loaf in half. He handed one of the halves to Matthew.

"Go on, run along."

"T'ank you, _Papa _Awtur," Matthew beamed and bit a huge chunk out of the bread.

"It was nothing at all … eh …, son. But once you're done you have to get ready for bed, understood?"

Matthew nodded and drifted out of the room, tears of relief rolling down his cheeks.

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

Alfred saw Matthew snail pacing to his room. First he was mean enough to release his bison and now he was purposely trying to tick him off. The anxiety alone was going to make Alfred crack and expose everything. Matthew needed to hurry up; Alfred's friends wouldn't hold forever.

**-o-oOo-o- CHAPTER 3 -o-oOo-o-**

_Prior – Alfred and Arthur's secret chamber (Ooh~) & The Kitchen Scene (Ooh~)_

Alfred studied the jar of spiders for nearly an hour before finding the perfect she-spider. A large black lady, with fierce looking pincers and sparkling ebony eyes born of strength and intimidation. She was perfect and the third and last phase in his plan.

He scooped her out of the glass prison and dropped her into a small iron box. The sun was going to set soon; there was no time to waste. He turned the latch, locking the box shut and dashed to the library, where he would find the bookshelf that would easily slip him into his father's (Arthur) 'secret' chamber of magical debauchery and enchanting allurements. But first, a snack.

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

Matthew was sitting at the dinning table eating one of the maple syrup cookies that _Papa _Francis baked and sent for him. It was so good! Unlike _Papa _Arthur, _Papa _Francis had culinary skill. When _Papa _Arthur tried to bake cookies they tasted burnt sludge – not that Matthew knew what burnt sludge tasted like. It's just that they were really, _really_ awful, and the violet eyed toddler sat down and ate them all. Just to be nice. But now he could sit down and enjoy a _real _cookie.

He nibbled on it, took another from the porcelain jar and wiggled it in front of Kumajiro.

"Hewe you go, Kumawiwo. Say 'ah~!'"

"Who awe you?"

"Da Bwitish Colony of Canada."

"Oh."

Kumajiro craned his neck and opened his mouth. Matthew tossed the cookie into his mouth and giggled.

"Good boy! You're a vewy good boy, Kumawi-"

The kitchen door creaked open and Matthew looked towards the sound. He stared in horror as Alfred walked in the room and looked right at him.

"Heyo, Matt'ew," his voice was cold as ice. It chilled Matthew to the bone. "Awe you havin' a good day? 'Cause if I weres you I woul'n't be abow to live wit myself."

"A- Alwred!"

"Awe you enjoyin' yo' cookie?"

"I- I …"

"You shou' eat fasta … choking is easiew dat way."

Matthew's bottom lip trembled. "I- I- I didn' mean to-"

"Save it, bruder. I'm hewe 'cause I'm hungwy – not to heaw yo' excuses."

In the rest of the time Alfred wandered he shunned his younger brother. Matthew knew no excuse would change Alfred's mind. He nibbled the cookie faster, teardrops spilling from the corners of her eyes. He was unbelievably sorry. Why wouldn't Alfred just believe him?

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

Alfred curled his fingers around the spine of a book called 'Recipes of England' and pulled it back. He pressed his other hand against the edge of the bookshelf and pushed. With just the right amount of force, the bookshelf started moving, with a little bit more pressure, it spun and he was on the other side of the shelf.

Taking Reba (the she-spider) he hurried down the spiral stairs that would lead him deeper into the chamber. Lit torches projected orange circles that aided him as he ventured further. On Alfred went until he hit the bottom floor.

The chamber was brighter than the stairwell and decorated to an eerie perfection; the lights in the stairwell were created by fire, whereas the lights in the chamber were created by large hovering orbs, books dubbed for their magical spells and otherworldly abilities lined the walls on dark shelves and odd astral items were encased in large, crystal spheres in almost every available space. The spheres were held up by thin iron piping that twined like climbing vines.

Alfred took note of the large round table in the center of the room. It was the perfect place to conduct the final step. He placed the box on the table and undid the latch. Reba crawled to the brim, stuck her bum in the air and shot out a web, it hit the lid; she slid down on the shinning thread and stopped, as if waiting for her next command.

Alfred took a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket; it was Arthur's, with an anagram messily scribbled onto it and a mess of spells written everywhere. Alfred took out a chalky stone from the same pocket and started scratching the design onto the base of the table – he made sure to make it look neater than Arthur's failure of a sketch.

"Weba," he called to the spider, and she turned to face him. "Ova hewe."

She scuttled to the center of the circle and Alfred began to recite the words on the paper. Though he had no clue what they meant, but they couldn't be all that good if Arthur had them next to an anagram. Not too bad either, if he'd leave it out where Alfred could find it. He didn't want to kill his Canadian brother, just scare him straight. And scare him straight he would, even if it meant casting unknown spells.

The anagram glowed and the room dimmed. The glowing orbs started flickering until at last they died. Reba's body went still for only a moment, and Alfred was convinced that he killed her when her hind legs twitched. Once. Twice. There was a bright flash and Alfred had to look away – he stopped chanting to huddle beneath the table.

Alfred stayed crouched with his knees to his chest until something tapped him on his shoulder. He looked up and was bewildered to find a shockinglylarge Reba looking back at him.

"Hello, America, Alfred," she voiced to him.

"W-Weba?"

"Yes, America, Alfred. I am Reba. What is your will? By unsaid oaths I follow your commands." She bowed, head down – Alfred felt like royalty. And it felt good.

"Oh, my gawd dis is so wicked! Weba," he announced, moving from underneath the table. He stood straight. "awe you famerar with, Matthew?"

She arched her head slightly. "I believe my master has unintentionally pronounced familiar incorrectly; and yes, I am aware of Canada, Matthew … Master America, Alfred."

"Good. I have a job fo' you. You see …"

**~ * wiggle (D8) wiggle * ~**

_Back in the present!_

Matthew drifted into his room. The day took much to long to end. And finally it was over. Finally. Now, hopefully, he could fall asleep and be whisked to a land filled with happy things. Like _Papa _Francis's cookies and maple syrup and polar bears and beavers.

The toddler slipped out of his clothing and into a fresh pair of pyjamas. Kumajiro curled up by the foot of the bed.

"Dat's odd. Kumawito awe you feeling okay? You don't no'mally sleep on da floor."

Kumajiro ignored him and rested his head on the floor. Matthew smiled at the bear and shrugged. All it meant was more room for the both of them to sleep, he wouldn't argue with that.

With his own eyelids getting heavy, he pulled back the bed sheets and crawled into bed – a large smile curled on his lips. Peace at last.

Something crossed over his legs.

Matthew calmed himself down. It was just an itch, or that was what he told himself.

Something moved up his arm.

His neck.

His stomach.

All over.

Matthew's eyes flew open and he bolted from the sheets. He ran to get a candle from his top drawer. _Papa _Arthur told him not to touch the candles or matches but this was an emergency. Whatever was on him in the bed was still on him when he jumped out of the bed and was crawling all over on him now.

With movements faster than humanly (and nationally) possible, he lit his candle. Breathing hard, Matthew moved it over his leg and the light revealed what seemed like hundreds of tiny spider scuttling about him.

He was hyperventilating. Matthew didn't even realize so until he looked down at his chest and the arachnids running in and out of his shirt.

"Sp-sp-sp-sp-sp-"

"Spiders," a female voice finished.

Matthew spun around, half expecting to see someone who would help him but found something that made his heart lodge into his throat. Made his breathing harder. Made all of the other tiny nuisances on him fade away.

A giant spider, larger than _Papa _Francis, hovered over him, its pincers were at least as large as Matthew himself.

"You look delicious, Canada, Matthew. I will have a pleasure indulging in your innards."

There was no time to scream, Matthew recoiled and ran in the other direction. He heard the spider's feet leaving indents in the floor as it chased after him. Where could he go that it couldn't? What would make them all go away-? Water! The lake!

Matthew picked up his pace and threw his arms out in front of him. He dived for the doggy door and barely made it through when one of the spider's legs brushed his own. Panting, he jumped back onto his feet and ran down the field.

He risked peeking over his shoulder. The spider was gone. Or so he thought until it appeared squeezing out of the chimney.

"_Maple_!"

Matthew whipped his head around. He could see the glimmer of the moon on the lake. The ground shook behind him, he knew that the spider was on the ground. Time was running out, she was closing in on the space between them too quickly.

Matthew had to stifle a sob; he knew exactly why this was happening and who did it. Who other than Alfred would be ill minded enough to sick a giant spider on their younger sibling for an incident that was completely accidental? No one, that's who.

Matthew kicked out a leg just as the lake came into reach, he was going to jump. Unfortunately, though, he slipped on a wet patch of grass. He collided with the earth getting a mouthful of dirt.

Matthew rolled onto his back and the spider was mere meters away from him. He tried to move but everything hurt too much. He couldn't take it anymore. No more being strong. He let the tears fall and began bawling. Accepting his coming fate.

The spider rushed at him and stopped suddenly. It crossed its front legs and bowed. A tiny figure appeared from behind and at its body. When the silhouette stepped into the moonlight Matthew saw the face of evil smirking at him.

"Shall she kill, Matt'ew? Shall she no'?" Alfred giggled.

Matthew shook his head. "I'm sowwy! I'm so sowwy!"

"Awe you weally? Beg on yo' knees and t'ank me. Declawe me yo' hewo fo' savin' you."

"You'we my hewo! T'ank you!" He dragged himself onto his knees. Eyes swollen and rimmed red, he sniffled. "I'm so sowwy!"

"Get up."

"My ankow hurts," Matthew cried.

One of the spiders crossed over his nose.

"I bet it does. But I don' care."

Matthew stumbled onto his legs and stood before Alfred. Alfred smiled.

"You pwobably want to get cweaned off," Alfred announced picking a spider off of Matthew's cheek.

"I do."

"How badwy does your ankow huwt?"

"Bad."

"Good. Have you leawned something?"

"I- I'm not supposed to- to mess with you."

Alfred pat Matthew on the shoulder. He hugged his younger brother and sighed.

It didn't feel as good as he thought it would. It was good, no doubt, but maybe he pushed it a _little bit_ too far. Arthur was going to be extremely angry when he found out.

Matthew hugged him tighter, Alfred could feel the violet-eyed toddler's heart thumping in his chest. That was when the guilt really set in.

"I- I didn' do it on puwpose. It was an accident, Alfwed."

He kept saying that and it was annoying but the sincerity in his voice was killing Alfred. Believe it or not he believed Matthew was innocent. But anger washed over mercy. Washed over and drowned it.

Spiders were beginning to crawl on him and he backed away.

"I know."

Matthew visibly stiffened and a sharp breath was pushed from his lips. "Y-you knew …?"

"Yes, I was jus' mad."

"_M-mad_?"

The air around Matthew was becoming heavy, Alfred took a step back. "Sowwy?"

Matthew snorted. "'Sowwy?' Oh, you'we going to be." He shook his head and his eyes seemed to grow darker as he glared at his brother.

Spiders were pouring off of him, as though they were being pushed away by an unfelt gust of wind. Matthew took a step forward.

"I'w give you a ten second headstawt. One, two-"

Alfred ran. He stopped abruptly, scanning for Reba but she had already faded into the darkness of the forest. Before he could make any further movements, Matthew's tiny hand took hold of his collar.

"I hope you can swim, Alfwed."

_**The END! **_

_**This took so freakin' long! NO love for Summer school. And it took away from my other story writing time **____** but now I have it back! Yeses 3. Thanks for reading. Comments are appreciated.**_


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